


Seakissed

by mkhhhx



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Talk of insecurities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 02:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30065433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mkhhhx/pseuds/mkhhhx
Summary: “If we froze time we wouldn’t get to live the very next perfect moment,” Donghyuck says and he doesn’t know if it makes much sense, although in his tipsy mind it very much does.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Moon Taeil
Comments: 18
Kudos: 68





	Seakissed

**Author's Note:**

> So...I wrote this in the span of two hours today because the last scene popped in my mind when I was trying to nap and I just had to type it down. It's a strange mix of nostalgia for a specific kind of place and channeling out all of my love for hyuckil. (And also it's unbetaed). I hope you all enjoy.

_How hard can you love someone? For how long can you keep loving them? For how long will they love you back?_

Donghyuck wakes up slowly, lazily, tucked securely under the bundle of covers they pulled on themselves the previous night, and Taeil next to him is running warm. His mind is hazy, and he doesn’t make any effort to get up or move other than leaning in to place a kiss on Taeil’s bare shoulder. He does not know what time it is, and he doesn’t really care.

“I love you,” he whispers in the air between them as the last memories of what he was dreaming of slip right through his fingers. “I love you so much.” His arm is still around Taeil’s waist and he rubs the smooth skin at the small of his back. It’s probably late enough to not feel guilty about waking him up even if they have decided to shut all of their alarms for a few days.

For a few breaths nothing happens. There’s dull noise coming from outside; chatter, the sea, seagulls, cars. There’s Taeil’s breathing, soft and shallow, lips pouty and eyebrows furrowed in his sleep and Donghyuck wants to kiss each and every single of his worries away. There’s the expanse of Taeil’s skin, bare as his own, pressed close like he was afraid they’d drift apart in the middle of the night. Donghyuck, even without touching, knows how every single spot and crevice and expanse of skin feels under his fingers, how it tastes and all the accompanying little sounds Taeil can make when Donghyuck lets himself explore.

He remembers the first time they fell asleep together and he remembers the first time they had sex and the first time they made love. On the shitty mattress of his old dorm room, in the break room of Taeil’s shitty retail job, on Taeil’s couch. He recalls everything from the way Taeil whispered into his ear and caressed his hair to the exact feeling he experienced, even if it’s been more than a decade, even if they moved into another apartment, _their_ apartment and chose the bed and the couch and every other single small and big thing by themselves.

When he was younger people used to tell him he felt too much. Cried at movies and he spared money on charities and exhausted himself for the sake of others. But Taeil never told him that, never even implied it. Taeil held him when he cried for the silliest of reasons and helped him when Donghyuck would accept it. Taeil would give him the space he needed, and even when they fought he cared more about them than about being right.

“I love you too,” Taeil mutters, face pressed to the pillow and eyes still shut. “Good morning.”

Donghyuck just hold him and hopes Taeil understands. He pecks Taeil’s lips and then his eyelids when he opens his eyes and keeps holding him close because he feels too many things at once, so many that he’s afraid the emotions will spill and he’ll start crying. He doesn’t want to worry Taeil, not right at the start of their day, so he keeps it all inside, just for a little more.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, even if he doesn’t want to let go. Ever since they became exclusive Taeil has never left his side. He has always been there in every way he could, in every way Donghyuck needed. He was there, next to him, when Donghyuck returned from work and was too tired to even take his clothes off. He was there, in the next room, when Donghyuck received bad news and couldn’t handle talking to anyone, but needed to know there was someone looking out for him. He was there, at the end of the line, when Donghyuck had to work abroad for months and felt more homesick with every passing hour.

Back at the start of their relationship Donghyuck used to wonder if he was enough, if Taeil would wake up one day and walk out of his life, if he’d find someone new, someone better. And Taeil, with steady hands and gentle words teared all of his walls down and chased his insecurities away. One night a few years ago, upon a shooting star, Donghyuck wished he could see himself through Taeil’s eyes for once, just to confirm that all the love, the acceptance, and warmth he feels when they are together is what Taeil can feel deep into his chest too when he looks back at him.

“A little,” Taeil yawns, pulling him back to reality, to the present, to pristine white hotel linens and his boyfriend. If someone, a dozen or so years ago, told him his life would take a turn like this he’d probably laugh, or maybe cry, because it’s everything he’d ever wanted and then some.

“We can order breakfast,” he says, swallowing down the lump in his throat and willing his eyes to stay dry. “Although at this time they might have even stopped serving dinner,” he giggles and watches Taeil’s features as he comes more and more awake.

They slept late, when the sun was already peeking up from the horizon and starting its ascent. In the middle of the winter nightfall come early too and Donghyuck knows that they don’t have many hours of daylight left, although he isn’t worried about it. He loves the sun, the afternoon warmth, and the world basking in light, but Taeil loves the quiet hours of the evening and the tranquillity they bring, so through the years Donghyuck started to love that too.

“Let’s shower and go outside to grab lunch, or early dinner,” Taeil says, his lips dry and Donghyuck just knows he forgot to pack his lip balm. He presses a kiss to Taeil’s lips after wetting his own, feeling the tiniest bit of silly, but it draws the prettiest of smiles on Taeil’s face.

“I love you,” he repeats, just to make sure Taeil knows. “I-,” he lifts himself on one elbow and hovers above Taeil. “So much.”

“Hey,” Taeil can sense when he starts getting overwhelmed. Even if they never talked about it, Donghyuck never told him how much of a calming effect he has, but Taeil, instinctively, knows how to calm him down. “I know,” he lifts a hand to press on Donghyuck’s cheek. “I know, love.”

Donghyuck deflates on Taeil’s chest. Gives himself a few precious moments to calm down; listening to Taeil’s heartbeat, to tune in Taeil’s hand playing with his hair, to Taeil’s voice, honey-like as Donghyuck’s name rolls off his tongue.

Finally, they peel themselves off the bed and each other. Donghyuck goes to the shower first, Taeil washing his teeth and shaving, telling him about the local dishes he wants to try through the thin shower curtain. It was his idea after all, the whole trip. They both had days off to spare and, as Taeil had reasoned, there was a specific kind of charm to traveling in winter. They were no strangers to holidays, but they usually preferred summers on the beach, while winters were spend cuddling together in front of the television or playing the piano and singing with a bottle of wine.

A weekly holiday at the seaside wasn’t what Donghyuck had in mind for the middle of February, but maybe it was what he needed because the quietness and open, bare spaces that will be filled to the brim with tourists in a few months somehow put his soul at ease.

They didn’t have a plan, not apart from driving to the furthest coastline they could without leaving the country and booking a hotel, their luxury room too cheap due to the season. It’s their fourth day, right in the middle of their retreat and all they’ve done is taking long walks and longer naps, eating, and kissing. And it’s good, it’s so good to not have to look at the time or schedule anything or have expectations for things to see. It’s nice to be able to just eat when they want to, to just kiss because they feel like it, to hold each other’s hands and look at the sea.

They dry each other’s hair and dress with no need to impress. Donghyuck puts on a button down under the sweater Taeil’s sister gifted him and tucks his phone and wallet in his jeans pockets. Taeil is standing by the mirror combing his hair, so Donghyuck joins him.

“You look good,” he says, diving in to press a wet kiss to Taeil’s cheek. His boyfriend looks more than good in a plain long sleeved dark polo, short hair parted to the side and hazel eyes looking back at Donghyuck through their reflection. “Can’t believe I scored the most handsome man just for myself.”

Taeil smiles, a small, serene smile. It used to scare Donghyuck; that Taeil just looked and smiled and nodded more than he’d talk. But through the years Donghyuck learned to read his silences too. “You like me,” Taeil says, his smile turning into a grin, Donghyuck’s head on his shoulder. “You like me a little too much.”

_“Eleven years is a long time to be with someone,”_ Doyoung had told him over dinner just a few weeks ago. “ _Maybe it’s time to start looking for rings_.”

It all comes crashing down to him at once that very moment. What was drizzling becomes a full-blown storm and the realisation settles in, although it probably should have had long ago. He wants them to wake up together the next morning as much as he wants them to grow old together. Move into a bigger house, take more holidays, raise pets and who knows, maybe even children if they feel ready for it.

He looks at them in the mirror, Taeil’s back leaning on his chest, his hands on Taeil’s waist. It becomes crystal clear so suddenly; how he should have bought that ring long ago, he should have picked a pretty box to keep it in his pocket. The words almost escape his lips right then and there, but he holds himself back. He wants to do this right; he wants to propose the way Taeil deserves to get proposed to.

“No,” he shakes his head, taking a step back to pick and wear his jacket. “I think I like you just the right amount.” _And if it’s too much, then so be it._

The walk to the coast where the restaurants are lined up, almost licked by the waves, is a short one. Most of the establishments are old, more wood than anything, kitsch menus by the doors and smiley owners waving at them as they pass. They take their time, hand in hand, walking to the very last one and then back, bickering a little about the best option and Donghyuck giving in to Taeil’s suggestion. They take a table by the wide windows, the sea right below them and Donghyuck lets Taeil handle the menu, because he knows what Donghyuck likes better than Donghyuck himself, anyway.

They don’t talk, there is no need to, the waves crashing down loudly by them. Donghyuck looks at Taeil and doesn’t tell him how much he loves him again, even if he thinks Taeil deserves to hear it.

He remembers when they started dating. Their few common friends telling Donghyuck he’d never have a chance with the older student. Telling him Taeil would want someone more quiet, more subtle, less everything. Telling him he was immature; he was too much.

He remembers how scared he was the first time he talked to Taeil with intentions other than a greeting or small talk, how polite Taeil was, how he had almost fainted when Taeil didn’t turn him down.

He remembers the first months too. How he’d try to be quiet, watered down, how he almost broke his own heart and had asked to break up because he thought Taeil would never like, let alone love, the real him, the loud, rowdy, open-hearted him. But Taeil had his own things to get through. He was shy and reserved and when people called Donghyuck too much, they’d call Taeil underwhelming. And Taeil showed Donghyuck he could be loud and silly too, showed him that they could meet somewhere in the middle and be just right for each other.

They share some alcohol and way too many side dishes, but Donghyuck knows the receipt will be worth Taeil’s full rosy cheeks and his tiny moans every time he bites into a mouthful of shrimp and eel and rice. Sometimes he forgets they aren’t students living on part time jobs and instant food still, even if when they are together he doesn’t feel a day older than at the time they first met.

He thinks of their current friends. They have already attended three weddings and a baby shower. Sometimes people ask him or Taeil, because calling each other boyfriends is starting to get old even if it still feels funky on Donghyuck’s lips; it reminds him of kissing the hot postgrad he scored himself a date with behind the science building.

Donghyuck knows it’s not a society or an age thing. It’s just right. _Husband_ is just a title, but it means so much, a promise to keep taking care of each other, of working on themselves and their relationship, of being a team, a family. They’ve waited for each other, but there’s nothing else to wait for. They are on the same page, they have talked about it, about getting married, about the future possibilities that all feature the both of them, together.

He’s a little tipsy by the time they ask for the receipt and Taeil is rubbing his tummy happily. Donghyuck made sure to give him all the best eel pieces and received the most tender shrimps in turn, all deshelled and hand fed to him.

“I will pay,” Taeil says, quietly. It’s not out of place, even if they usually go half and half. “You can pay for desserts or drinks afterwards,” he winks.

Donghyuck leans back on his chair, stretching and letting himself enjoy the feeling of good food and alcohol pleasantly slowing him down.

“I am glad we came here,” Taeil says when the receipt is taken care of and they are slowly getting up and putting their jackets on. “The sea is pretty, the food is good and my boyfriend is lovely.”

Donghyuck doesn’t comment on how suddenly Taeil calling him his boyfriend feels weird. He knows it’s all in his head and he’s thinking too hard about it. He knows the first thing he’s doing when they are back is finding the perfect ring and organising the perfect night.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he says instead. “I need this,” he pats his stomach. “To calm down before I even think about dessert.”

“Let’s go up to the hill,” Taeil suggests. The place they walked to on their first night in town, a little upwards trek with a pretty view of the whole town and the lit up ships on the horizon alike.

It’s a relatively long walk and it’s getting dark and cold, but Donghyuck doesn’t mind, he’d never mind anything as long as Taeil is walking next to him with lazy steps, their fingers intertwined. They see few people on their way, some locals, some who look like they’re tourists too, walking around, sitting at the beach and watching the sunset, walking to the restaurants that light up the whole coastline.

They groan and heave their way up the hill, but the view is more than worth it. It’s pretty, the rough kind of pretty you don’t find around the city. The kind of pretty Donghyuck grew up with back at Jeju and craved more than he’d even admit to himself. In the low light of the dusk he can spot the ships swaying in the angry sea. He can see the waves down the cliffs and he can see the first stars of the night and the moon, dull, but still so pretty.

On the very top of the hill there is nothing but a sturdy metal railing and an old wooden bench with names and dates and little hearts craved all over it. Donghyuck never found the joy in that, in imprinting their presence around the world in such a way. They did write their names on the Wall of Love at Paris and they left their mark on guest museum books at New York, but it was never something he seeked out. More than anything Donghyuck kept every single moment in his mind and heart, tucked away as a fond little memory. The time Taeil kissed him atop The Eye of London, the time they soaked themselves playing around a fountain in Barcelona, the memory of a cool can right out of a vending machine in Kyoto.

“Do you ever wish you could freeze time?” Taeil asks, forearms on the railing and looking down the horizon.

“Sometimes,” Donghyuck admits. “When you kiss me.” _And when you come home from work and call my name. And when we’re out at clubs with all our friends and you only seek me out. And when you buy me flowers even if it isn’t a special occasion. And when-_

Taeil pulls him close and kisses him against the railing and for a moment, when they part he looks like he is about to say something, looks like he is trying to hold it together as much as Donghyuck is.

“I wish I could do that right now,” Taeil tells him, bringing Donghyuck’s palm on his lips. “It’s perfect.”

“If we froze time we wouldn’t get to live the very next perfect moment,” Donghyuck says and he doesn’t know if it makes much sense, although in his tipsy mind it does.

“Maybe,” Taeil nods. “I was thinking,” he wets his lips and Donghyuck doesn’t know what to do with himself when all he wants is to kiss him again. “The previous time we were here, exactly here,” he taps on the railing. “I was thinking of this-”

“Of what, love?” Donghyuck lets his head drop on Taeil’s shoulder so they can watch the last of the sunset. He knows Taeil has a lot in his mind and he knows he needs a specific kind of gentle coaxing to put them into words.

“Love is a little like this,” Taeil takes a deep breath. “Most people probably think that being in love is like you’re sitting opposite to someone so you can look at them all the time, but I don’t think it’s like that.”

“What do you think?” The last of the sky’s soft colours reflect on Taeil’s eyes.

“It’s more like sitting next to someone, having them by your side so you can look at the world together,” Taeil says, so fast and quiet that Donghyuck almost doesn’t catch it. “That’s probably dumb-”

“No,” Donghyuck shakes his head. “No it’s not,” he wishes Taeil would speak up his mind without his own insecurities on the way, wishes Taeil knew how much Donghyuck loves his every word. “You are right, happiness cannot come from other people, not without work and even then, it’s not the person, it’s the result of your combined work that makes you happy.”

“Thank you for being by my side,” Taeil says and a streetlamp flickers on a little above his head. “I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.”

Taeil looks like he wants to keep talking, like there is a rush but suddenly Donghyuck cannot hold it in anymore. He knows he won’t be making it through the trip without saying it, without _proposing_. The prospect seems too real and like a dream at the very same time and he feels his throat closing up with the words.

“Taeil,” he inhales hastily, suddenly more sure of himself than he thinks he’ll ever be. “Taeil, I-,” he clears his throat and braces himself, Taeil looking as if he needs to ask a hundred questions. “Moon Taeil, do you want to marry me?”

Taeil stares at him, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. He stares and stares without a word and Donghyuck panics.

“I am sorry,” he says. “I didn’t plan this, I don’t have a ring, I-” He stops because Taeil’s cheeks are wet and he is giggling and Donghyuck has never seen him like this before. “Taeil?” He tries, so sure he fucked up, he fucked up so bad they will never be able to go back, a hundred scenarios going through his mind.

“It’s okay,” Taeil wipes his face hastily with the sleeve of his jacket.

“So you…” Donghyuck feels like he’s been holding his breath for an eon and then Taeil is unzipping his jacket and searching for something in his inside pocket while confusion settles into Donghyuck’s features.

“It is okay if you didn’t plan this,’ Taeil retrieves what he was looking for and Donghyuck’s eyes go wide with the realisation. “It’s okay if you didn’t buy a ring too, because-” Taeil says through his sobs that turn into light hiccups and Donghyuck feels the first tear running down his own face as Taeil gets on one knee and opens the little box. “I did.”

“Yes, I,” Donghyuck doesn’t even know how to put the happiness he’s experiencing into actual words. “Yes,” he extends his hand and Taeil kisses his finger before he slips the ring on it.

“We are a mess,” Taeil laughs, a wet, funny sound, as he gets up to hug Donghyuck tight.

“Will you pretend to be surprised when I propose too in a couple weeks?” Donghyuck asks because it’s only fair that Taeil gets a ring too.

“Of course,” Taeil kisses the side of his head. “Of course, future husband.”

They kiss against the railing with the endless ocean behind them and right then, even if only for a moment, time slows down as if it’s frozen.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me [here](https://twitter.com/kuns_dimples)!


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